Spasmodic Nonchalance
by XxHDMxX
Summary: Stories of the human soul being tested with sorrow and horrific circumstances. How will that soul react? Violently? See how it is put to the test to these individual stories of tragedy and consequences. Chapter Four to add more...
1. Killer Queen

Spasmodic Nonchalance

Genre: Tragedy?

Rating: M

Warning: contains language, violence, sexual themes, discussion and use of drugs/alcohol, suicide, rape, murder, reckless endangerment, beastiality, "Your Momma" jokes, and many more...and if you believe _all _is in here then you're guilible or correct.

Oneshot? Maybe, let's say that this chapter is the whole story and if I do add to it it will be a different story, maybe all of them connected? I don't know XD. Oh by the way, at least this chapter will be told as if the narrarater is telling the story literally, like to other people...mmkay?

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**Chapter One**: Killer Queen

"She's a devious little bitch. That's the first impression anyone would get if they just met Wendy Testaburger. She's smart, too smart most would think. She's a pretty girl but her sharp features make her more fearful than beautiful. Her quick tongue and sharp wit makes her annoyingly argumentative. She is popular but most kids hate her. She's the embodiment of the devil...

...but my best friend is in love with the banshee.

Stan and Wendy have been going out since freshman year and he's whipped to bend to her every whim. Whether it's abandoning us to go to the mall with her and her clone friends, going to sappy chick flicks _and _telling his buddies, and completely changing her personality and interests. I, his best friend, is left behind to wallow about while he just skips away with the witch.

Wendy didn't love Stan the way Stan loved her. Stan wanted the American Dream, married with kids and a dog and that other stupid clichéd shit. He was going to propose to her the day we graduated. Wendy knew this but didn't _fucking care_. She treated him like shit just so she felt better; she's sick.

_She killed him_

I'm getting ahead of myself. Well, see I never thought the real Stan was ever 'alive' after the succubus has butchered it. I never see him without her and he rarely talks to me anymore. You may think that I'm a tad jealous, and I guess that's true. You may also think that I like the kid and that may be true too but it doesn't matter.

I should tell you about the friend situation before I forget. Kenny is dead; that's just the plainest thing to say about the kid. His father murdered him at the age of thirteen but the fucking prick got his just desserts a week later. Apparently, at this stripper's joint in Denver, the guy died choking on his own vomit. Kenny's mom and brother moved to Georgia I think with some relatives.

Cartman...well I don't want to say too much about the chicken fuck because it would flatter the walrus. He's the same he has been since he was nine. The only difference is that he's two hundred pounds heavier and has a pizza face of zits. As you can tell, I do not like the porker. I'll talk more about him later.

_She never loved him like he loved her_

It all started the week before graduation. Stan got me out of class and was frantically pulling me through the hallway. We got to the boy's bathroom and he finally stopped. 'Stan..' I said to him but he just looked at me with a gleam in his eye. 'I got the ring...' he whispered excitedly. My eyes widened as he opened up to reveal a small but pretty diamond on a white gold band. I looked at him with dismay. 'A ring? For me?' I say, attempting a joke. He laughed and put it away.

'I'm going to propose to her tonight.' he explained to me. 'Don't you have an away game tonight?' I asked him curiously. He nodded a yes to my question. 'It will be a surprise...I'm going to go to her apartment tonight and propose. I would like you to accompany me if you don't mind.' he looked at me sheepishly. Why would he want me to go with him? 'No, I'll come by later to see if you weren't blown off.' I said sarcastically.

Obviously, Stan didn't catch my sarcasm and his excited expression turned anxious. 'Oh no!' he gasped 'What if she says no? Kyle, what if she does!' I told him to calm down and he did, thankfully. We went back to class and didn't pay attention to the last minute learning taking place.

_I should have came with him_

Later at night, I looked at my clock to see it is eight thirty. Stan said he was stopping at Wendy's at eight. I decided to take a walk over to the place like a good friend should. It is not far from my house but it is chilly so I took my hat and my winter jacket. I strolled down the street but something told me I should hurry up. I arrived to the apartment building and started up the flight of stairs. I went toward the door but I heard something. I pressed my ear against the door.

'E-eri-c!'

'Yeah you like that bitch!'

'Ooh...ohh!'

'Say my name!'

'Eric!'

My blood ran cold. _Wendy is fucking Eric? _Oh god, where's Stan! Did he see this? Not only would the image would forever be embedded in your brain how would he take it! Oh god, where the hell is Stan? I didn't know what to do or say. All I could think of was where is Stan. I ran down back the flight of stairs and pushed the door open. The streets were oddly clear. Something is wrong. I heard a noise above me and I looked up to see Stan on the roof. 'STAN!' I screamed up there. He just looked at me.

I ran back up all ten flights of stairs, again, and pushed the door open that leads to the roof. Stan is just standing there. The ring is in his hand. 'Stan...' I said to him and he just smiled to me.

'The sky is so beautiful. It makes you feel...invincible.' he mumbled. I stepped near him. He must be devastated...so much so that his mind has exploded in his cranium.

'Stan, you're not well...let's just go to my house' I suggested to him. Then my eyes averted to something on the ground. _It was rope_. 'S-tan?' I let out. He walked over to me and embraced me. I felt my cheeks redden as he clutched onto me.

'Sorry...' he whispered in my ear, 'I wish I could change it...' at once he kissed my lips and pushed me hard on the ground. I couldn't say a word. _There's a noose around his neck!_ 'NO! STAN!' I screamed. He stepped up on the ledge. He looked up at the clear sky. 'Wendy...I loved you...please forgive me' and he let himself fall. I ran to the ledge and grabbed his hand. His eyes lit up and looked into my own.

_He pushed my hand away._

_SNAP!_

The funeral was a day before graduation. I saw his parents as that held each other. Shelly, his sister, was here as well and for once I saw her shed a tear. I had to say a word or two about how great Stan was and such. Everyone from school came but no one really knew Stan. Wendy came in with Cartman and the two were sitting up front. Wendy was crying but Eric...he was _grinning_.

I couldn't think of anything until that moment. I stood up and gazed at his lifeless body. He's so serene. The only difference is the neck. The rope marks, the black and blue marks, and the popped veins makes him look like a monster.

'Ladies and gentlemen, we're hear today to say goodbye to Stan Marsh. He was the star at the high school. He was the perfect son, the perfect friend, and had the perfect life. See, that's what you would say if you didn't know Stan as well as I. People hear cry false tears today; you are all hypocrites. You know who you are, only God can see the stink that you are emitting.

I loved Stan like a brother and seeing him in such a state...it makes you want to throw yourself over as well. There will be rumors, that he's nuts, suicidal, and there will be gossip streaming from this. He doesn't deserve the slander. If you had an ounce of decency you will leave him in peace. Thank you...'

I bumped into Wendy after the burial. 'That was an interesting eulogy, Kyle. I can't believe he's gone.' she cried. How the fuck can she just say that to me! Cartman just glared at me. I bent over toward Wendy's ear.

'The sight of your friend killing over me isn't so much bad, is the fact he killed himself over _you_ makes me want to do _unspeakable things_ right now...' I whispered in her ear. Her pupils contracted and looked up at me. Cartman pulled her away and just shot a look.

I had a hallucination that night...or maybe it was a dream. Whatever it was, I saw Kenny. He looks as if he's my age, although he died young. 'Kenny!' I scream. He just laughed. It was a chilling laugh, almost sinister. 'Missed me much?' he asked. I nodded as my only reply as he came closer. 'Stan is dead now...' I muttered. 'Wouldn't have known...he's probably living it up in heaven or whatever other thing there is...but I can't complain I get to impale my father for all eternity. Pay back is a bitch...heh...' he began.

'W-hy are you here?' I asked him. He looked at me and gave me a grin. 'I'm here to tell you that revenge is best serve cold and you better give that bitch and fat fuck what they deserve.' he hissed.

'W-hat? Like, to kill them?' I asked stupidly.

'I'm not saying that...that's too barbaric for you.' he grinned.

'Don't you want to see that bitch scream in horror? Don't you want her to beg for mercy. Don't you secretly want to see if Cartman will spew out candy if you take a whack at him?'

'Look Kenny, I just can't kill two people...although they clearly deserve it. It's not moral...' I said to the apparition.

'This isn't about right and wrong or black and white, Kyle. This is karma and you're the one that's going to deliver karma in the form of a gun...or knife...whatever you prefer. I'm out, I think my father is actually not screaming...I know you know what to do...'

And in an instant, I woke up. 'Should I kill them for Stan?' I asked myself

_That's what friends are for..._

I went to Stan's Uncle Jimbo at noon. He looked upset but his friend Ned was keeping him company. 'Hey Kyle, what's up?' he asked me. 'I need to borrow one of your hunting guns...me and my dad are going camping this weekend.' I lied to the man. 'Sure! Go pick one out.' he pointed toward the gun rack. I took the shotgun and some ammo.

'Hey...what are you hunting?' he asked simply.

'A snake and a fat weasel.' I muttered grimly.

I put the shotgun in a duffle bag and put the bag on the outside stairwell on Wendy's apartment. I came back later that night after writing a note to my parents and my brother, Ike. It read simply that I decided to make this decision and don't judge me harshly. I left the note open because they'll find out on the news what I did.

I walked up to the door to hear what I heard before. I slowly turned the knob to find it open...wow they aren't worried about robbers...or killers.

I looked around to see that the bedroom was off to the right I zipped open the duffle bag and put in the cartridges. I held the gun carefully in my hand. I quickly put a knife on my belt if needed. I kicked open the door and I aimed. Wendy's almost naked body was on top of what looked like a tub of flesh-colored dough. She screamed in horror as Cartman was screaming obscenities.

'SHUT UP!' I screamed. She started crying as Cartman was screaming 'Brofloski? What the fuck are you doing you little prick!' or something to that extent.

I loaded the shotgun, making her scream more. Cartman shut his fat lip quickly and started to look around, probably a way to escape. 'You want to get out? Walk out the door and don't tell anyone.' I fed into his want. He looked at Wendy who kept saying 'Don't leave me Eric!' Like the good man that he is, he got up and started to put on his clothes and started slowly out of the door.

He was about to turn the knob as I shot directly into the back of his head. His brains and blood splattered on the walls, door, and even a bit on me. Half of his head was gone. Blood poured from his head and made a pool around the walrus. The carpet soaked up the blood, but now it looks more brown than red. Oh wait...his body just shit itself. Wendy shrilled louder.

'He'll make a good door stopper...the police will have to go through the fucking window...' I said to myself. I even laughed..._I laughed!_ I walked over at Wendy. She kept on pleading with me. 'Why are you doing this?' she cried. 'Why...WHY? I'LL TELL YOU FUCKING WHY?' I screamed. I pushed up against the wall.

'YOU KILLED STAN! HE KILLED HIMSELF BECAUSE OF YOU? YOU FUCKING BITCH! HOW DOES IT FEEL? HOW DOES IT FEEL TO KNOW THAT YOU CHEATED ON THE GUY, YOU ARRIVED TO YOUR LATE BOYFRIEND'S WITH YOUR FAT FUCKING LOVER...TO _HIS _FUCKING FUNERAL, CRIED FAKE TEARS, AND WENT ON FUCKING WITHOUT A CARE? MUST FEEL PRETTY GOD DAMN GOOD! YOU KILLED HIM, YOU KILLED CARTMAN, YOU KILL EVERYTHING YOU TOUCHED!'

I made her put the shotgun in her mouth. I made her orally pleasure the shotgun. I shoved it in the back of her throat, making her throw up. She started to choke on the vomit and barrel in her mouth. Then I pulled the trigger. The back of her head smeared the wall and bed sheets.

And I laughed...I just laughed. People started knocking on the door, some are pushing at the door in vain. I put the shotgun in the bag and went through the window. I took out the stairwell and made a grand escape."

"So, that's my story on how I got here..." I said to my inmate. "Damn, that's harsh...how long are you in for?" he asked me. "I'm getting out on counts of insanity." I told him grinning, "South Park's finest..." He laughed hoarsely. "Wait, how did you get caught?" he asked me.

"I just walked up to the station and told them..."

_If you love her and she does not return it, it's never meant to be. Stan never knew that...and can never again..._

**End of Chapter One**

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HDM: comments, reviews, even art will be appreciated Don't worry, I'm thinking about Burning Butterflies...it's not over yet...


	2. Numb

Chapter II

Numb

Warning: depictions of lemon scene ( I will forewarn you), rape, drugs, violence...blah blah fucking blah

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_Even if you stitch up the wombs, you'll rip them open again_

"Everyone hates me. I am no one in everyone's eyes. Sure, I'm not popular, smart, athletic, or charismatic. Everyone either ignores me or treats me like shit. I was oblivious to it when I was younger but you can't ignore it for so long. The pain just numbs you to the point you can't feel anything. I lost the speech impediment but I don't talk to anyone anyway...it's just too painful. It's good to not feel. You don't have any reaction...the world just passes you by and doesn't give a second though.

_He made me feel though..._

I had a crush on Stan Marsh. Yes, don't get me started how twisted it is. First of all, he's not gay. Second, he has Wendy, who's very pretty but very overbearing. I decided to try to get closer to Stan some sort of way. I was almost desperate and nearly gave up until God intervened. See, we needed to do a project for English class and the teacher picked us as partners. So, every day I would go to Stan's house and we would work on the project. At first, he didn't say much to me but he started to say nice things to me.

After the project, we would still see each other but he wouldn't tell me why I couldn't tell anyone. I guess he wasn't ready to embrace me as a friend. I didn't care because I was with Stan. We would talk about mere nonsense but he was so easy going I couldn't help but fall in love with the guy.

Then one day...I blurted it out. I said to him 'Ss-tan. I l-li-ke you...' with a stupid stutter. I couldn't look at him. He must have thought of me as a freak...a faggot freak. I looked up and he just...kissed me. I couldn't believe my own eyes. He actually kissed me in his bedroom. His lips were so...soft that I could just melt right then and there. He gently grasped my shoulders as I fell into his arms.

We would have our secret rendezvous once a week. We would tell friends and family we were studing at one another's house, mostly Stan's because my parents were home, and we would just lay in each other arms and gently pressed our lips against one another. I thought I was in heaven. I couldn't be happier. This was my moment, I thought to myself. This must have been what it felt like to be loved.

_But...I can never have a happy life...now can I?_

There was this party at Craig's house that everyone was going to on Saturday. Stan asked me to accompany him because Wendy had to study. I agreed and he picked me up at seven. We arrived at the party to see some people drinking or smoking pot. I didn't know what to do but I was surprised that Stan just took two cups full of beer and handed it to me. I didn't know Stan social drinks...but then again we just got to know each other a month ago. I had a cup so I didn't look like a stiff. Stan was having a blast. He smoked that night. He had one too many drinks. He acted completely different. He wasn't my Stan.

_Or maybe, my Stan was fake..._

It was nearing one and some people were leaving Craig's house. Stan was too wasted to drive so I took his keys and drove him to his house. 'Hey, want to walk me in?' he asked me. I agreed and walked him in. He staggered toward the door; no one was home. 'My parents are over my aunt's house...in Denver. They'll be back tomorrow night.' he slurred. I walked him into his house and up the stairs. When we got into his room, I tried to put on the lights but it was in vain. The next thing I know, he was pulling me toward the bed.

'S-Stan! What are you doing?' I asked him. 'Come on, don't be so coy.' he whispered hoarsely. He silenced me with a rough kiss. The taste of beer was bearable. He whipped his tongue all around my mouth. He started pulling off his shirt. I tried to push him off but he went on pulling off my jeans. He rubbed his hands on my body and I couldn't help but feel pleasure. He put his hands under my shirt and felt my abdomen. His finger tips were icy and warm at the same time. I let out a soft moan. That seemed to please him.

He combed his fingers through my blonde hair. He gave me this animalistic look. He didn't love me...all he wanted was sex. No, that couldn't be, I'm not just a toy to Stan. He's so sweet and kind...it couldn't be possible. He kept pushing at me until we were both naked. His member was fully erect. I just stared at him. He looked like a fucking beast...ready to prey.

(hear it is...)

He forced me to perform oral sex for him. He shoved his member into my mouth. I wanted to gag my innards. I wanted to please him so I continued. If I didn't do it as fast as he wanted he would force my head back and forth. He let go and threw me on the bed. I tried to push him away but he flipped me over on my stomach. He shoved his member into my rectum. I screamed in pain. I didn't want this. He kept shoving it in and out with increased force. I let out a scream every time he pushed. His stomach brushed against my back. He pulled his member out of me slowly and I let out a sigh of relief...thinking it was over. No, it wasn't over.

He flipped me back on my stomach and pushed my member up and forced his into me. I screamed again. Hot tears roll down my cheeks. He kept going faster and harder. He pressed our bodies. I grabbed his shoulders tightly...so much that I ripped his skin. It hurt so much, I wanted it to stop. This isn't what I wanted. He finally stopped. He secreted on my abdomen and didn't look at me.

_He defiled me..._

I couldn't even move. My body was aching so badly. Oh...and of course my ass...but that's too obvious. I couldn't even look at him. He passed out on his bed, dead asleep. I quietly picked my things up off the floor and got out of there. I just wanted to get to my house as fast as possible. When I arrived at my house it was near six am. When I got in I just jumped in the shower. The water was streaming onto my body...first freezing but then warm. I just let the water beat against my body. I started to scrub every inch of my body until my pale skin turned pink.

I went into my room and just cried. How could he do that to me? That was so horrible...why did I let it happen! Why does it hurt so much! I cried into my pillow until I fell asleep. I had reoccurring images of the scene while I slept. His eyes...the eyes horrified me. The way he looked before he had sex with me...it was barbaric. Is that what love leads to? It's a front for lusting, animalistic pleasures?

School was its own burden. No one knew what happened so that wasn't my concern. When I saw Stan in the hallway he just pulled Wendy closer to him and walked away. He didn't even give me a smile. That just broke me. I ran out to get some air. Why the...fuck did he do that? Am I just a fucking toy? I don't really curse but that's how mad I was. Stan used me...he used me to forget about his petty schemes. Now, he made a mistake...he gone too far with his toy. Now, he must bury all connections with his taboo toy and get back to reality. Problem is...I won't allow myself to be buried.

I went to English and I just stared at Stan. He refused to talk to me but he did send me a note. This is what it said.

_Butters,_

_The other night was a mistake and I know that. I was high from the beer and the pot and I wasn't thinking. I do remember what I did to you...vaguely...and that cannot be taken away. We can't see each other anymore. I went along with this game because I was curious...but now it's time for me to choose and I choose Wendy. I hope you will understand where I'm coming from. Sorry again, I didn't want to hurt you..._

_Stan_

I tore up the note and put it right in his hand.

I punched every locker in the hallway. I started to scream on the top of my lungs. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Teachers tried to restrain me while students just stared and walked by. I didn't care anymore. Stan looked at me...that look.

He turned away from me.

I wanted to get back at him. I don't know what or how but I wanted him to feel the pain I felt. Not only the physical but the mental anguish. I needed a plan but I don't know what.

Then, this kid came to me after school. He had raven hair that covered his eyes. He wore a black cloak that hid his lean body. His complexion was pale and smooth. 'I know how to get back at him...' he said coldly.

'Get back at who?' I replied

'Your problem, he has great ties to the girl...but she's messing around'

'Wendy? Wait how do you know that?'

'Use it against him. Catch them in the act...he'll be overwhelmed...'

I tried to find out more information but he disappeared. The weird thing is...that flies engulfed the figure and he was gone in a second. This freaked me out but what he said was embedded in my brain. Use it against him. He wants me to get Stan to catch him in the act.

I overheard Stan talking to his friend Kyle about how he's going to propose to Wendy. I heard from Wendy saying that Stan is going to a meet and won't be around senior week so she'll be busy. It slowly added up. I know what I can do but hopefully it will work.

I talked to Stan the next day. He didn't seem as uneasy as before and I pretend to forget about what happened. He mentioned to me about the proposal too. 'Well, why don't you suprise her tomorrow? She won't expect it...' I fed my line to him. His eyes sparked with enthusiasm. Then it faltered.

'But, I have a game that night...' he said.

'That's why it'll be a surprise...she won't expect you coming...' I told him.

'That's great Butters! I'm going to get the ring tonight and I'll do it! Thanks'

'No problem Stan...'"

I looked up at my psychiatrist. He looked at me behind his glasses. "What happened then Leopold?" he asked me.

"He found out...and then hung himself..." I whispered hoarsely.

"How do you feel?"

I didn't answer him. I never answer that question. He wants me to feel guilty but I don't. I'm almost glad. I didn't want him to die but I died as well...although I don't realize I'm dead. Everyone needs to feel death brushing against one's cheeks once in a while...well not enough to suffocate you.

"I laughed at the funeral..."

He just looked at me. I didn't realize that I said it aloud. "We don't have much time left in our session, Leopold. Anything else you want to tell me?" he asked me.

"Kyle killed Wendy and Eric shortly before I was admitted to the ward. I guess he loved Stan that much to kill those two. I loved Stan before but Kyle doesn't realize that Stan had it coming. I feel bad for Kyle, he didn't know Stan like I knew Stan...but then again maybe I didn't know him either."

_Now I sit in confinement...never to be set free..._

_But I still laugh...I just keep laughing..._

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End of Chapter II

HDM: I answered my own questions about stories overlapping...


	3. Hell hath no Scorn

Chapter III

Hell hath no Scorn

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"I am perfect. I am beautiful, intelligent, and I have impeccable taste in fashion. Boys want to be with me and girls are jealous of me. I am the epitome of the All-American high school girl. I have the perfect All-American boyfriend. I have every material thing that I could want. If I don't possess it, I can get it in ten seconds flat. I have the body many girls wish they had but can never achieve. I am a living goddess. I am Wendy Testaburger.

I have been going out with Stan for some time now and it is always heavenly bliss. We act like every other teenage couple in high school; the usual holding hands and the kiss on the cheek is quite regular. We walked hand-in-hand to and from school. On Fridays, I would go to his house and we would have sex. Of course, no one actually knows we have sex; I can't have my image soiled. Stan doesn't mind, though. We were just perfect.

Except for a little problem...

Kyle.

He was still Stan's best friend and I would hear excessively about Kyle. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate the boy. We're just...adversaries. We have been since grammar school. We were always tied first in the class. We always had the same number of activities. We also had someone whom we both care for dearly. I thought I could get the one up on Kyle by being together with Stan. Alas, that didn't happen, Kyle was still around even when he wasn't present.

Stan would even talk about Kyle after sex! He was finishing up, giving one last thrust. He got cleaned up and returned to the room. He slipped back into the bed and wrapped his one arm around my torso. He gazes into my eyes and what I thought he was going to say 'I love you' he asks me

'Do you think I can tell Kyle...well you know...'.

I was livid. 'What?' I spoke through my gritted teeth.

'Well, best friends always talk about their girls and how...well far they've gone...' he explained, digging himself a bigger hole.

This is true for both guys and girls. Guys are actually gossip more than girls, to tell you the truth. It's the 'Dude! I totally fucked her last night! God, she was like making love to a fish!' bullshit. Now, Stan is asking me to allow him to talk about me like a used ragdoll.

'No...fucking...way...' I breathed slowly. I shot him a look to just dare to ask again.

I didn't hear much about Kyle after that. I felt sort of proud of it. Stan spent more time with me and less with his friends. I don't want to think that it was me that caused this, although it's quite probable. We went to the movies to see a flick and guess who we saw? Kyle was there with Craig and Clyde. Stan pratically pushed me out of the way to run over to see Kyle. They were talking for a good while; I was just standing there like an idiot.

'I'm going to go get a drink.' I told Stan but he didn't respond. I start to walk away when I saw Kyle look over at me. He gave me a smirk; his face read 'I win' all over. My cheeks redden with rage. I stormed off but, of course, Stan didn't care.

A week later, Stan told me about a party on Saturday at Craig's house. I had an A.P test that Monday so I couldn't attend such a _wonderful_ get together. I rarely go to these kind of parties. First of all, I don't think that keggers qualifies as a decent get together. Second, last time I went to a party like Craig's I was almost raped by the boy. It wasn't his fault, of course, it was the alcohol. Then again, he did get his arm in a sling but that doesn't stop his excessive drinking. I told him that I didn't approve of the party but I couldn't restrain him. He goes out with friends once in a while, he can't be with me all the time.

I was eating lunch with my friends that following Monday when I hear Butters was crying in the back of the lunchroom. Like a good person, I decide to listen in on what the fool is blubbering about. He kept on saying he was used. I walk over to see him and his eyes widen in terror.

'W-Wendy! Uh, oh dagnabit, was I be-being to loud?' he stuttered.

'Why are you crying?' I acted sweetly toward the idiot.

'N-Nothing, just b-boy howdy life just gives ya a b-bunch of rotten apples!' he was babbling on. I walked away from the boy to hear whispering around me.

'Did you hear what happened at the party?'

'Butters went to the party...'

'I think he went with Stan...'

My blood ran cold. No, it couldn't be. No, Stan wouldn't take the sap to a party. Wait, he would go over to Butter's house because of a project. Wait, is Stan...cheating on me...with BUTTERS!? Or at least, _did _on me...he must have let the kid have the boot. I thought if Stan would cheat on me it would be with...Kyle. You would think the same thing if you were on my side.

I decided to get even with those two. They are obviously doing this out of spite. Who would I use to get what I want? I was eating lunch with my friends the next day when Eric Cartman stormed in. Then, it hit me. I could have an affair with Eric to spite Stan. Those two hate each other and it would make perfect sense. At first, a part of me thought this was bitchy even for me. But then again, Stan did cheat on me first.

It wasn't too hard to have Eric wrapped around my finger. I would just ease my way until he started to be interested. He always had a fling for me. Before, I could never see myself with the oaf. I mean, to say he's heavy is a huge understatement. Even if I wasn't shallow he's a nasty little cockroach. But, he's my only option. I secretly wanted this to happen. No, I'm not attracted to the guy, I just know he can give me what I want. Remember, I always get what I want.

As our relation continued, he didn't show any submission to my alluring beauty and overbearing nature. In fact, he fought me. I never had a guy who was so arrogent and dominant before. I was attracted to that sheer masculinity. The feminist that's hidden inside cannot tolerate his sovanistic nature but then again, most of the guys I've been aquainted to were bigger pussies than me. Sometimes, a girl wants to feel a bit submissive...not abused but protected. Is that so wrong? As I think about it, us girls are hypocrites when it comes to what we want out of guys. Maybe I'm a hypocrite...but I don't care.

He try to order me around. We would fight constantly. He would call me a stuck up bitch and I would call him a stubborn pig. We would be in mid scream and then he would pull me close. He would catch me off gaurd with a kiss. We have a love-hate relationship. It was turbulant. It was chaotic. It was intoxicating.

'Why don't you leave him, Wendy?'

He brought this up after we made love. I was strapping my bra hooks in place when he asked me that question. I turned to see him. He actually looked sad. Does he actually want a real relationship? Is he actually softening up to me?

'Eric...' I whispered softly. He pulls me into an embrace. I reached around him and softly cried. I can't believe this, I'm actually falling in love with the boy. He tilted my head upwards and gave me a soft kiss. He layed me back on the bed and started kissing me passionately.

I could hear movement on the ceiling of the apartment. I tried to ignore it but there was shouting. I was on top of Eric when I heard a scream. I shot a look toward the window; I saw a body falling! I ran to the window to see who it was. All I could hear was Stan's name being called out. I screamed when I saw his hat falling following suit. I was pounding the glass so hard the glass shattered. Blood ran down my palms. Eric was screaming at me to calm down but I couldn't help myself. I smeared my blood on his chest. Blood smeared on my chest. I was choking on my tears.

I went to the funeral. I felt like everyone was glaring daggers at me. Kyle was chosen to say a few words about Stan. When he stepped up to the podium, he was glaring at me. I know what he was thinking. He thought I killed him; I made him do it.

'Ladies and gentlemen, we're hear today to say goodbye to Stan Marsh. He was the star at the high school. He was the perfect son, the perfect friend, and had the perfect life.' He took a pause and looked over at me again.

'See, that's what you would say if you didn't know Stan as well as I. People hear cry false tears today; you are all hypocrites. You know who you are, only God can see the stink that you are emitting. I loved Stan like a brother and seeing him in such a state...it makes you want to throw yourself over as well. There will be rumors, that he's nuts, suicidal, and there will be gossip streaming from this. He doesn't deserve the slander. If you had an ounce of decency you will leave him in peace. Thank you...'

I spoke to him after the funeral. I told him how I felt but he didn't break his cold stare. He bent over towards my ear and whispered, ''The sight of your friend killing himself isn't so much bad, it's the fact he killed himself over _you _that makes me want to do _unspeakable things_ right now...'. I felt his rage and his lack of sense. Eric pulled me away from him and kept telling me over and over not to listen to him. I can't help it; Kyle means what he says all of the time...he isn't playing around.

I know I deserve the blame and all of that; believe me I feel guilty. People think I'm a cold and nasty little bitch, and I don't blame them either. I know what I did was out of bitter revenge of what could be just a stupid rumor. But, I am sorry that I didn't end it soon enough. I was going to call it quits the following day! I was going to tell Stan everything but it's too late. I just hope that he can forgive me..."

I looked up to see the man just staring at me. I was in a bar across the street from the cemetary. The man saw me crying and brought me in for a drink. I didn't mention to him I was underage. After a couple of shots I told this stranger everything. He was beautiful, he had a soft face and raven black-blue hair tied in a low ponytail. His eyes were slightly catish but were a brilliant blue. "Go home, you should be with the man who cares about you...before it's too late..." something in his voice gave me a chill down my spine but I obliged.

I came home to see Eric already in my home. He was yelling where I have been. He was drinking as well. I told him I went to the cemetary and he started cursing.

"I told you not to go there, Wendy! You're only hurting yourself!" he slurred. Even intoxicated he's right. Later, we started to have sex. I was on top of him when I heard the door creak. I look over to see Kyle. "What the fuck?" Eric yelled but my screams drowned out. Kyle had a shotgun aimed at my head!. Eric was still yelling at Kyle but I was ferentic. I don't want to die!

Kyle loaded the gun which made Eric stay silent. "You want to get out? Walk out the door and don't tell anyone" Kyle said to him. Eric looked at me and then at the door.

"Don't leave me, Eric!" I screamed. He bent down towards my ear.

"I do love you but..." he started to get up. I screamed even louder. No! He was going to leave me to die! He started towards the door, maybe he can get help! Kyle suddenly takes aim and shoots Eric in the back of the head. His blood and guts splattered all over the room. Kyle began to laugh! I'm going to actually die!

"Why are you doing this to me!?" I shrilled

"I'LL TELL YOU WHY!!" he bellowed. I cried even more; I want to throw up from the stench. He screamed on and on how I killed Stan and now Eric and I am a tramp. He shoved the shotgun into my mouth.

"Put it in bitch!" he screamed. I whimpered as I taste the cold metal on my tongue. It was hard and cold against my lips. I continued to cry and to pray for whatever God is up there to save me. He began to shift the barrel in and out of my mouth. I wanted to scream. "Yeah, you know how to work it bitch!" he screamed.

He shoved it back into my throat. I started to gag terribly. I felt the bitter taste of my vomit coming up. I started to cough and choke on my vomit and the shotgun barrel. I looked up at Kyle. He was smiling. His eyes were contracted. He looked like a monster.

"I win..." he whispered as he pulled the trigger...

* * *

End of Chapter Three

HDM: Well there's another piece of the whole story. I really don't care if this isn't popular, I enjoy writing this story. XD Reviews are appreciated.


	4. Sacrifice

Chapter Four

Sacrifice

* * *

My life was a living hell. I think it is easier to start off my story saying this undeniable truth. I died frequently, almost once a day. I continued this until my ultimate death. I could not figure out how I could eternally die when I've been 'dying' every day of my young life. I summed up my theories into one semi-believable statement; I tried to rationalize the chaos of my existence. Before, I would die in some unnatural way. It was almost comical; whom am I kidding, it was fucking hilarious. Can you catch the slight sarcasm? It got old to here the same old skit after each death. Although, I guess some of my accidents were funny…even to me. What wasn't funny was my last death. 

I was thirteen years old on my home from school. Stan and Kyle left me to venture into my lovely abode. Nothing says a home like the smell of piss, booze, and burning tires. I pulled the screen, making this awful creak. The living room was dim with the only source of light was the small television box. The olive green carpet was stained and smelled funky. Kevin was watching Terrance and Phil and my parents were nowhere to be found. He was wearing the same shirt and pants for a week; I doubt he changed his boxers. His hair looked greasy and unkempt. He shot me a look and sneered some curse in my direction.

I could hear my parents yelling. Their speeches were slurred from the booze they've consumed over the course of the day. My father stumbled into the living room and looked at me funny. "Boy..." he slurred; eyeing me, "You er late boy!" he started unbuckling the belt. My mother started screaming about how he should leave me alone and to get out of the house. I began to walk away from those two.

The next second, I feel the metal buckle against the back up my skull. I fell face first on the carpet; the smell of the piss and booze kept me from passing out. I hear my mother crying. "Don' ya walk away fro me boy!" the old man slurred. He kept whipping me; it would hurt more if I did not have my hoodie. I try to scream but my hood muffled my voice. I tried to get up but he kicked me in my ribs. I heard the agonizing crunch of broken bones. I yelped in pain and buckled back into a fetal position. He kept kicking at my back, stomach, and head. The throbbing pain was increase; blood started to run. I coughed up blood onto the carpet. I let out a soft whimper for help. I looked up at Kevin; he was still watching the television.

Everything turned black.

I was not allowed to go to heaven; God did not have any more room and he did not like me. So, I went to hell. It was not that bad, though. I had to assist the demons in torture and did busy work. They taught me a lot of neat tricks like raining flaming eyeballs and flaming winged skulls. Anything with 'fire' or 'flaming' is popular down in this area of hell. The further you travel the colder it gets. Think about it, when you hold snow or any ice in your hands for an extended period of time, your fingers feel the frost bite. Sometimes it's so cold, it's burning you.

In hell, I actually aged; I could choose what age I want to be. I listened to a lot of rock music, especially metal. It's true, metal is the music of demons. They try to bring mortals down in hell to perform for the demons and they hypnotize the players to make them believe that they're playing in some other city. Next week Slayer is supposed to come down to "Stockholm".

Of course, how could I neglect to talk about Damien. Yes, you know him well; son of Satan, the Anti-Christ, and all the other names that comes with the territory. Damien is the exact opposite of his father. He is the epitome of evil. He's sadistic, cruel, sarcastic, deadly, and cunning. But, he's amazingly gorgeous. His hair is a midnight blue-black now down to his mid back. He has almost feminine curves but has a nice and toned built. He has beautiful eyes, often turning from a bright emerald to a blood red when he's enraged or is lustful. He wore black cloaks and knee high boots mostly with his 'gothic get-up'. I was in love with this boy. And I think he knew it and milked it up.

We started to hang out around hell since there was no one else really. I soon became immune to all of his sarcastic and biting comments, lack of humanity, and his sadistic sense of humor. I told him about my mortal life and he just gave his cold and crude comments here and there. He didn't comment, however, on my death. I told him about the old man and my obvious hatred and bitterness. His face actually softened a tad.

"You want me to take care of him?"

"You can do that?"

"Shit, I'm the fucking Anti-Christ!"

That was his answer to everything, pretty much. The next thing I knew, I was being taken to the mortal world (as an apparition of course, can't be walking around like a zombie) to watch the old man die by fire ants. It was rather humorous; his eyes bugged out and his screams were beyond delicious. Don't get me wrong, I'm normally not so psychotically elated over the torture of people but I am in hell and he did kill me.

When we got back to hell, I was so happy over his death and how I can torture him like he tortured me. I was yelling in Damien's room. He just gave me a small smirk. "Thank you, so much Damien." Before I could think about what I'm doing, I was hugging the guy. He even looked surprised.

"Uh- oh shit, sorry." I try to apologize, "This is awkward..."

I try to pull away but he laced his arms around my waist. "It's only awkward if you just stare at me..." he whispered.

His kisses were amazing. He laced my tongue and the inside of my mouth with his tongue gracefully. We fell onto his bed as he groped my body. He pressed himself against my leg, almost humping me. I let out a moan as he started to pull off my clothes. "Sorry, but I'm on top..." he whispered coarsely, "I like being dominant." I couldn't give him an answer because he silenced me with another kiss. He stripped off my pants until we were both naked. He looked amazing; he has the body and the face of an Anne Rice vampire.

* * *

The pain of sex is nothing compared to the pain of abuse. It's a different kind of pain. This pain makes you feel good. This pain actually has a drug effect; it dulls your senses and heightens them at the same time. It makes you forget about other problems in your life while you're in the moment. That's how it's so addictive. When Damien performs, I mean he _performs. _It's mind blowing; I guess having sex with a deity is supposed to be mind blowing. 

When he wanted sex, he didn't wait until we were alone; it was on the spot. We were eating with Satan and his new boy toy Benito Mussolini and Damien started unzipping my pants into the main course. He started to get rough with me. I wasn't surprised when he brought out S&M gear for me to strap on. He would strap on a choker around my neck. He would pull on that while fucking me...and an added bonus was a whip.

I never minded though because I just wanted to please him. I mean, he did treat me awfully well...besides the sex. He didn't cook me rotisserie style like the countless numbers of the damned. I had my own room and I could walk around freely around Hell. It was my life, or rather, my afterlife. He acts on his animalistic urges and desires. He doesn't understand the word compassion, only lust and sexual urges. He doesn't comprehend that he hurts me. I know I want to love him but I know that it's a wasted effort.

I was curled up in my bed one night and Damien barges in. His pupils were pinpricks in his crimson eyes. Before I could say anything he had me pinned to the wall by the scruff of my neck. "You fucking slut!" he roared. I clawed at his hand in vain. He pounded my head against the wall. I let out a cry. "How dare you see someone else but me!!" he continued to question me about me soliciting sex when I was eight.

He finally let go of me as blood stained tears streamed down his cheeks. I coughed continuously while gulping the air. I couldn't help but just stare at him. I cannot even bring myself to defend the accusations. "It's true..." I whimpered softly where even he could barely hear my cries. "What can I say but you're right. I loved sex when I was alive even at a young age. I sold myself to earn a bit extra cash." I babbled on and on until I was crying my eyes out.

I just looked up at him, ready to see his twisted sneer. But there was nothing. There was no emotion in his glare. He pulled me up from the ground and embraced my sore and stricken body. I smeared my bloody face into his neck for some sort of comfort. Soon, I realize that this embrace isn't so much as comforting but constraining. He presses his lips on my ear.

"I won't let you leave me...know this...I am your one and only..." he whispered harshly in my ear. He forced his lips against my own, tasting the blood that's collected in my mouth. He pushed me into the bed as the blood drips on my face. He lapped it up with his forked tongue. His palms were pressed against my shoulder blades. I winced at the pressure. I let out a gasp of pain as he plunges his member into my mouth.

Bloody cum...

This was my everlasting hell…I guess I am being tortured down here without even realizing it. He uses me like a rag doll until something pisses him off and then I'm his punching bag. Sure, you may be thinking I shouldn't let him hit me like this but he's the fucking anti-Christ...a god. I have no power compared to him. He has unbelievable strength and unimaginable power. There is someone, however, that's stronger than him.

Satan.

I go to his estate when Mussolini conveniently leaves for the night. Satan greeted me warmly as I stroll into the living room full of decorated pillows and photos of a young but not-so-innocent Damien.

"What can I do for you?" his voices echoed through the room.

"It's about your son..."

"He's at it again?"

"I guess you could put it that way..."

"I'll see what I can do..."

That short engagement put me in better spirits. He told me to wait around while he pulls a soufflé out of the oven. I walked upstairs and I see Damien's old room down the hallway. I started creeping towards it. I was called before I could get a good glimpse of the boy on the wall. Somehow, it reminded me somewhat of someone I knew...

It looked like Stan.

I left shortly after trying Satan soufflé (it was quite delicious mind you) and headed toward my quarters past the lava pits and shish kabob victims. I entered my room when I saw someone behind the door. "Where were you?" an all too familiar voice hissed behind me. I thought up a lie quickly. "I was looking for you this morning..." I coolly replied.

He turns me around roughly and looks me in the eyes. Lucky for me, he isn't a mind reader and I can bullshit with the best of them. He seems convinced with my lie as he rubs my sides. He nuzzled my neck almost tenderly as I let out a moan. He caressed my torso first slowly but he gets more physical. He pressed me against the wall and we passionately kiss. Our tongues are tangled as he unbuckles my belt.

He starts pleasuring me on the spot. I try to grab something but the only thing there is to grab is the door handle to the outside. The pressure of his mouth against my member makes me feel aroused but I feel a pricking sensation. The door opened and we collapsed on the floor. He continues to pleasure me while people turn to watch the free event unfold. I let out a gasp; not out of pleasure but out of pain. I look down to see my member bleeding. Apparently, Damien's fangs punctured my dick!

I let out an agonizing scream as he continued to suck on it. Blood drips down the side as he laps it up. The tongue glided over each puncture womb sending surges of stinging pain. I clenched my lower lips so hard it starts to bleed. He released himself and looks over at me. His grin was stained with my blood and semen. He scooped me up in his arms and cradled my head. I wrapped my arms around his neck. I don't remember how the door was fixed or how I got to bed that night. All I could concentrate was the pain in my groin. I felt myself being slipped into the bed sometime later. I felt a body next to me though.

I turned over to see Damien's red eyes gleaming in the dark. I caught my breath for a second. He almost never stays with me after he has his way. He slips his arm under my torso and pulls me closer. He kisses my forehead and whispers bittersweet nothings into my ear. I couldn't catch much of it for the throbbing pain in my groin clouds my thinking process.

_"Don't worry, I'll make it all better soon...don't worry..."

* * *

_

I had awoken to find Damien still sleeping in my chamber. Why did he stay with me? Why is he acting almost kind to me? Aside from the blowjob he didn't hit me or belittle me. I don't want to believe that he's acting nice for nice sakes. I decide to leave it be and not bring it up or he may revert to his normal way of acting. I leave my room to take a stroll around Hell. I ended up in the suicide's garden of Hell in my brooding.

The garden is somewhat the most beautiful part of Hell. The flowers are glass-like and gleam in the light. Although they're not alive they're more gorgeous than real flowers. The people, however, aren't beautiful. They have this blue glow around every one of their souls. You cannot even break their trance; they live in their own guilt and they kill themselves the same way in life. It's sad, almost, I tried once to convince this girl that she's dead but she just cut her throat right in front of me.

I started playing with one of the crystal lilies when one of the victims sat down beside me. I look up but I did a double take.

"S-Stan?"

Nothing could convince me otherwise. This boy, my old childhood friend, is Stan. He doesn't look past eighteen and yet he hasn't changed when I saw him last. His eyes are a dark royal blue that contrasts his raven hair. His skin is porcelain aside the red abrasions around his neck. There's a rope still wrapped around his neck. My body grew cold when I laid my eyes on the rope dangling around his thin neck.

"You look like someone I used to know..." he said to me. All I could do was nod. "What happened to you?" I asked dumbly. He raised his eyes and greets my own. "I loved her...I truly loved her." he replied, almost avoiding my question. "But I...couldn't love her and him...oh god and Kyle...oh god that look he gave me...and that kiss...why did I..." he croaked out. He chokes on his tears. I tried to console him but he just kept pulling on his noose until he was blue in the face.

I couldn't bear seeing him like this; I just ran away. I ran into the one person I do and I don't want to see at the same time, Damien. I couldn't even give an explanation where I've been; I could only cry. I choke on my tears as I blubbered out about Stan. He embraced me in his arms and strokes my back. "I tried to tell you last night but you fell asleep. Don't worry though, we can amend his death if you want." he whispers in my ear. I just nod a yes.

I was told the whole story before heading upstairs to pay Kyle a visit. I had awoken him in his sleep. "Kenny?!" he screamed. I laughed at his response. "Missed me much?" I asked. He nods as I came closer. He hasn't changed either although his eyes are bloodshot. "Stan is dead now..." he muttered. I couldn't bear to tell him I saw him in hell so I lied to him about some bull he's in heaven.

"W-hy are you here?" he asks me.

"I'm here to tell you that revenge is best serve cold and you better give that bitch and fat fuck what they deserve."

"'W-hat? Like, to kill them?"

"I'm not saying that...that's too barbaric for you." I grinned, "Don't you want to see that bitch scream in horror? Don't you want her to beg for mercy? Don't you secretly want to see if Cartman will spew out candy if you take a whack at him?"

"Look Kenny, I just can't kill two people...although they clearly deserve it. It's not moral..."

"This isn't about right and wrong or black and white, Kyle. This is karma and you're the one that's going to deliver karma in the form of a gun...or knife...whatever you prefer. I'm out, I think my father is actually not screaming...I know you know what to do..."

When I returned to Hell I ended up in Damien's old room. It revealed all this gibberish with a picture of Stan on the wall. There's a red circle around his face. Then there was a sort of map that connected Stan to other people. I saw me up on the wall as well. I touched my photo that had a heart around my face. It then had an arrow from me to Kyle and then an arrow to Wendy and Cartman. I couldn't tell whom the blonde boy in the map that led to Stan. What is this?! Was this all part of some twisted and sadistic plan of his?! And I was...just the pawn in his game!

I ran out of the room to see Damien just laughing at me. "You can't get away from me, Kenny! I told you I won't let you go!!" he laughs maniacally in my face. I ran away from him until I saw Satan just staring at me. "Damien that's enough! I'm sending him away..." he booms his voice. Satan grabs me while Damien screams obscenities.

_"I'LL HAVE YOU BACK, KENNY! YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME!! YOU'LL ALWAYS BE MINE!!"

* * *

_

I am staring at Kyle in the cell we share together. Apparently, this man's soul went straight to hell...leaving me an empty vessel to control. Over time he acquired my physical traits while I wait for release. Being alive is awkward, especially with Kyle in this situation. He looks over at me one day and asks me my story since he told me his insane story.

"My story is mind-blowing...you'll never believe me..."

"I told you mine which isn't normal either...besides we have time until we're sent to die..."

"Wait...I thought you said you're getting off on insanity?"

"No, they appealed it...we're both heading to the guillotine buddy...so you better spill it now..."

Damien's laughter just echoed in my head. I felt the blood rush out of my face. I guess he is right...I can't escape him.

"Alright...it starts as back when I was thirteen where my dad killed me after you walked me home..."

"Kenny?"

End of Chapter Four

Really really long update/chapter. Even though this isn't that popular I love it! I guess it doesn't matter as long I'm happy. Sorry if there's just tense switching I tried to switch all I could find…there are 2 pictures on my deviantart account if you mosey over there to www.xxhdmxx.


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